


The Tunnel to Nowhere III

by Wolfine



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfine/pseuds/Wolfine
Summary: Hogan is not happy about this new mission. Newkirk can't fathom why.





	The Tunnel to Nowhere III

"I just can't imagine it though. I mean...having to pretend about something like that."

Newkirk pressed his lips tighter together and stabbed his needle into the fabric in his hands. "It's not something you need to think about, Carter, so stop worrying yourself about it."

"Oh, I know...I'm just sorry you have to do something so...so...yeeack. Stuff we have to do for the cause, eh?" Newkirk sighed, his patience with the young American nearly at an end. "Golly, if it was me, I don't think I could go through with it! I'd probably chuck my lunch. Just thinking about having to cuddle up to a fella...makes me wanna chuck my lunch right now!"

Newkirk flashed a warning look to Kinch. "Carter, do us a favor? Go play with some dynamite, will ya?"

"I'm just sayin'...you deserve a medal or something for this. Above and beyond the call of duty. I mean, we've been asked to do some tough jobs before, but this one takes the cake! I know I'd..." At this point, Kinch had snagged the talkative man by the arm and was practically dragging him to the door. 

Once outside, Kinch spoke to Carter in hushed tones, wary of the guards overhearing them. "Carter! Can it, will ya? We all know this is a tough enough job for Newkirk. You going on about how hard it's going to be might make him change his mind. Then the Colonel might ask someone else to do it. You want that assignment?"

Carter's eyes widened in horror. "I hadn't thought about that!" He lowered his head, looking contrite. "You're right. I'm not really helping Newkirk, am I?"

Kinch patted him on the shoulder. "I know you were just saying what we are all thinking, but I think he'd appreciate it if we didn't bring it up all the time." Carter nodded in understanding. "He'll be all right. You know Newkirk. And if we get the info we need, maybe the Colonel will let him go into town and see that pretty bar maid he's always mooning over." Kinch and Carter shared a smile, then spotted Schultz patrolling and decided to annoy the German for some fun.

On the other side of the door, Newkirk had finally let his shoulders relax as he tried to concentrate on sewing and not stabbing his own fingers. He knew Carter meant no harm, and he thought of the young soldier like a little brother, but as was often the case with siblings, sometimes you wanted to throw them under a tank. Carter's head would explode like one of his bombs if he knew that Newkirk not only didn't have a problem with this assignment, he was actually looking forward to it. He glanced over towards Hogan's office door, which had been shut since they had gotten back to the barracks. What he couldn't figure was Hogan's reluctance about Newkirk doing this job. Considering what Newkirk knew, it just didn't add up...

Hogan and Newkirk had gone to the Hofbrau in town, checking out a new German officer who reportedly had access to some sensitive information which would greatly help the Underground. The idea was to keep the officer at his post and get as much as they could over time. The best course of action was to befriend the man, get him roaring drunk on occasion, and let him spill his secrets. Not always an easy job if the officer was wary, but not impossible if they were careful.

Franz was easy to spot. Tall and well muscled, blonde and blue eyed, he was the poster child for Hitler's Aryan race. He carried himself with some confidence, and wasn't bad looking, if you could ignore the German uniform. Newkirk was about to suggest they engage the officer in conversation when he caught Franz watching them at the bar. Specifically Newkirk, and very specifically, his pert bum. He nodded at the German with a slight smile and was surprised to see the man looking him up and down. Newkirk was surprised at his boldness; the man was undressing him with his eyes! Considering it was just as dangerous for a German to be attracted to men, Newkirk wondered if Franz didn't have a relative in high places who could protect him. When the young man indicated Newkirk should join him at his table, the Brit did not hesitate, not even bothering to ask Hogan before he slid off the stool and took a seat next to Franz.

Newkirk spoke to Franz in fluid German, and before he knew it, they were joking like old friends. The man had a pleasant voice and a rather good sense of humor. If it wasn't for the damn war, Newkirk would have considered letting the man do what his eyes kept saying he wanted to do to him. This assignment was going to be so easy, Newkirk would have the man singing like a canary. At the point where Newkirk had begun wondering what Franz would be like in the sack, he glanced over at his commanding officer. The stormy look on Hogan's face nearly made him spit his beer all over the table. Had he said something he shouldn't have? Newkirk was sure he had been very careful. He shared the last of the beer with Franz, then excused himself, promising to come visit the Hofbrau more frequently now that he had met the young man. He shook hands with Franz, noticing how the other man's fingers caressed his wrist. Newkirk left the warmth of the bar with no doubt that he would be seeing Franz again, and soon.

He walked down the road for a while, then jumped into the brush to wait for Hogan. Several minutes later the older man joined him, but he didn't have much to say. They had walked mostly in silence except for Newkirk's assessment of Franz, and his assurance that he could do the job. Once inside the tunnel, Hogan had turned to him and asked him if he could really go through with it, considering "how fruity Franz was." Newkirk had told him he understood, and that he was willing to do it in order to get the info they needed. Hogan had looked him in the eye, long enough for Newkirk to explain that it wasn't as hard as all that, you just needed to imagine you were kissing a bird. Hogan had kissed dozens of women, so he should have no trouble understanding, at least that was what Newkirk thought. But an odd expression had flashed over Hogan's face before he had turned on his heel and mounted the ladder to go above. Newkirk had followed him, questioning their next move, but Hogan was already marching to his office, saying he would think about it before shutting the door firmly. 

Unsure what the problem was, Newkirk had scooped up some mending to give his hands something to do as he explained how things had gone at the Hofbrau to the other men. While the others had thanked fortune that they didn't have to do this assignment, Carter had kept going on about how awful it would be to have to pretend to like a man. Newkirk sighed, never feeling more isolated than he did at that moment. No one knew how he really felt, what he really liked, and the one other man he was sure liked men the way he did seemed to be very annoyed with him at the moment. 

Newkirk had mended two shirts and a pair of socks before Hogan's door cracked open and the senior officer poked his head out. "Newkirk? Come on in, we need to discuss this mission." 

The Brit nodded and rose to follow, glad that the barracks were relatively empty at the moment, cutting down on the eavesdropping that was bound to happen. Once across the threshold, he closed the door behind him and stood, tense but not quite at attention. Hogan gestured to his desk chair, but while Newkirk drifted over to it, he remained standing, leaning against the desk, and took note of the stiff line of the older man's back. Hogan stayed across the room as he turned to him, arms crossed over his chest.

"I've decided not to have you do this mission."

Newkirk's mouth dropped open. "But sir, this is an easy one. You know how young Krauts like to brag to their friends. Get enough liquor into 'em and I can have 'em singing like--"

Hogan's brow formed into a deeper scowl. "I said no. If the Underground wants info from Franz, they'll have to find other ways of getting it."

Newkirk's lips pressed together in frustration. "Colonel, we both know I'm the better man for the job. As a proud member of Hitler's army, Franz won't be attracted to Kinch, I'm a better actor than Louie, and all Carter will do is throw up on the man. And not to be insensitive, but ol' Franzie didn't invite you to his table, he invited me--"

Hogan uncrossed his arms, but Newkirk noticed his hands remained balled into fists. "I can't ask you to do this, Newkirk. I'm not sure you saw the way he was looking at you, but I did. I'm surprised he didn't throw you across the table and try to lift your skirts in front of the whole bar."

Newkirk had been ready with another argument, but Hogan's description had been so amusing, he found the heat of building anger had left him. "Look, I can take care of meself. I run into his sort back when I was in the theater."

Hogan paced slightly, something he had been doing the entire time he had been in the office. "I'm not saying you can't. I just don't think...it's not a job I want you doing."

His comment had Newkirk crossing his own arms defensively. "Why not? You don't think I can act well enough to fool a ruddy German?"

"Of course, I'm not questioning your abilities--"

"Then what is it then?"

Hogan seemed to struggle to find the right words. "It's just..." His voice lowered and he looked pointedly at his thief. "At some point, he's going to want to do more than share a beer with you."

It was all Newkirk could do to not roll his eyes. "Like I told you, snogging a bloke ain't all that different from a bird. Back in the theater, we were sometimes short people for parts and a man had to play a female part. I've kissed my share of blokes for Willie Shakespeare, I can do it for the Underground."

Hogan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't stop the image of Franz pinning Newkirk down, his lying tongue forcing it's way into Newkirk's mouth, bruising the sweet lips that Hogan still yearned for. But it didn't stop there...he pictured Franz yanking at Newkirk's clothing in a rush to touch him. "He may not stop at kissing you. He'll want to run his filthy hands over you..."

A spike of anger flashed through Newkirk. Knowing that Hogan himself had kissed him senseless in the short tunnel, Newkirk had not been able to understand why Hogan was making such an issue of this, but his last comment reminded Newkirk of some of the men he had known in his life. While they all had to hide their nature, there were some who were happy to bend you over and fuck you, but were still disgusted that you let them do it. They did not consider themselves homosexual, as long as they were not the ones taking it up the arse or on their knees with a cock down their throat. More than once he dodged a backhand before the guy's come was even cool, hearing "Damn faggot" being spat at him with disgust. He hated that kind most of all, and was sad to discover Hogan appeared to be sickened by the thought of a man allowing himself to be touched in such a way. Newkirk set his jaw stubbornly and squared off with his commanding officer. "We've all had to do things we may not always be proud of, but I volunteered to do this job--"

Hogan all but growled, turning away from the argumentative Brit. Not for the first time did he curse his style of command that encouraged those under his leadership to speak their minds, wanting to know what his men thought and not fill the room with a bunch of guys all nodding their heads at him like drunken chickens. However, the downside was often having arguments with them when he wished they would just do what he said and not be so stubborn. The bitch was he knew Newkirk was right on every point the man made. He really was the best man for the job as he was capable, willing to do it, and Franz was definitely interested in him. The problem lay with Hogan himself, and what he had done down in that blasted tunnel.

He could still remember how good it felt to kiss him, how soft his lips had been, how warm and wet, and the little noise Newkirk had made. Hogan had run like a virgin schoolgirl from the whole scenario, but even now he ached to take the man into his arms and use his mouth to coax that noise out of him again. He had been a little awkward around Newkirk for a few days afterwards, but it had worn off and they had actually grown closer. Hogan had several memories now of just how the other man felt under his hands as he patted a shoulder or pulled him in for a good-natured hug. One of his favorite was when he, Carter and Newkirk had dressed as Gestapo and taken a car to complete a mission. At the end, Carter acted as their driver, which left Newkirk riding in the back with Hogan. It was late and cold, and Newkirk actually snuggled into Hogan's side for warmth and had nodded off against him. Hogan had wrapped an arm around Newkirk and pulled him close, enjoying every second of the ride back to base and for once not wanting it to end. He imagined he could win Newkirk over in time, but once again the war was speeding events along.

Fast on the heels of all his memories now was Franz, grinning his predatory smile at Newkirk, and the thought of the man even daring to touch his thief in an intimate way was making Hogan crazy. Hogan knew why Newkirk didn't have a problem with the job, but he was already finding it hard to think about Newkirk with other men from the camp. Thinking of him with the enemy was turning his stomach. Worse, he suspected Franz might not stop if Newkirk didn't want to do something, and the thought of his man trying to fight off a guy who wouldn't take no, or worse hurt him...

Hogan jumped as he felt a hand gently touch his arm, turning to find Newkirk at his side. "It'll be okay, Gov'nah. I promise."

Hogan snorted. "You can't know that, Newkirk. I told you, I don't want that Kraut touching you--"

Newkirk did roll his eyes then. "I'll be fine, I'm okay with--"

He couldn't take it anymore, and grabbed Newkirk by both arms, shaking him as he spoke. "I KNOW! I know..." Inches from his face, Newkirk looked him straight in the eye, and Hogan watched as understanding finally filled those beautiful eyes. "I know. I know."

And there it was. Newkirk swallowed with difficulty. In any scenario he had thought of to confess to what he was to the American, he never expected it to be like this. For once, Newkirk was at a loss for words. Did he explain that he didn't do it often? That he knew Hogan was the same because he had once blown the man down there in the darkness? That he normally didn't swallow, but that didn't make him any less of a man because he did? He felt blood leaving his face and his stomach turned over. Would Hogan dismiss him from the unit? He would never see Hogan or the others again, and home would most likely bring a firing squad. Newkirk struggled to keep his arms from trembling, but as of right now, he was still a member of this base, and he still had a job to do. "So, why do you have such a problem with--"

"BECAUSE!" Hogan's grip was no doubt going to leave bruises, but he had to get Newkirk to understand. "I don't want him touching you because..." He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "Because....because you're mine."

Newkirk was happy Hogan had a hold of his arms, otherwise he was sure he would fall over. "What? I.....come again?"

Now it was Hogan's turn to swallow, this was not easy. "I...know...because I kissed you." Newkirk gave a small nod of his head. "I didn't...I didn't know you were down there. When I went down. But, I've always..." He stopped squeezing the other man's arm in a death grip and massaged the muscles with his thumbs. "Ever since I met you...I've always..."

Newkirk nodded, understanding what Hogan was trying to say. "Rob, I..." The use of Hogan's first name felt odd, but Newkirk had once had the man's cock down his throat, so he figured he earned the right to call him by it. "I've felt the same way, but I didn't know. About you, until then."

Hogan seemed mortified. "You knew it was me?"

Newkirk couldn't stifle a smirk. "You wear a distinctive cologne." Hogan's cheeks pinked slightly. "I have to say, you're one hell of a kisser."

Hogan continued to rub Newkirk's arms, liking the play of muscle he could feel. "I've thought about it a lot since then."

Newkirk smiled. "Me too."

"That's why I can't let you do this job. I don't want Franz kissing you, or putting his grubby hands anywhere on you. I don't like sharing."

Newkirk considered. "Are you sayin' you want us to be a steady thing, then?"

There was a faint gleam that returned to Hogan's eyes. "You're so smart, you figure it out." He released his grip of Newkirk's arms and wrapped his own around the other man. His lips found Newkirk's with better accuracy, and he was pleased when they opened and Newkirk's tongue worked it's way into his own mouth. Hogan cradled Newkirk's head in one hand and supported his lower back with the other. He felt strong arms wind around his shoulder and ribcage, always loving the strength of a man's embrace. For several moments the only sounds in the office were those of wet kisses, labored breathing, and the occasional soft hum of happiness. Hogan dropped his hand lower and squeezed Newkirk's ass cheek, finally getting that noise he had been wanting to hear. Newkirk was busy ruffling his fingers through Hogan's hair and pressing his hardening cock into the man's thigh. Suffice to say, both men were so distracted with each other, that they never heard the knock at the office door before it swung open.

"Colonel, Schultz is....mon dieu!"

LeBeau's voice was like a bucket of ice water splashed on them, and both men separated so fast, they nearly fell over. There could be no denying what they had bene doing though, and Hogan's poor brain was trying to come up with a valid excuse even as it was still addled from Newkirk's hot kiss.

Newkirk was quicker on his feet. "Colonel Hogan was just helping me for that mission with Franz. Won't do to act like I've never done this before."

The look on LeBeau's face made it clear he was not buying that for a second. He closed the door and waved a dismissive hand at both of them. "Please. I've known you two had a thing for each other for ages. I'm just shocked you finally got together!" 

Newkirk blinked, hands going to his hips. "You bloody well did not!"

LeBeau blew a raspberry with his lips. "I'm French. We know love when we see it, no matter where we see it. But Schultz is on his way over here, so..."

Hogan grabbed his jacket from the bunk and shrugged into it. "Thanks LeBeau. And...uh..."

The Frenchman waved his hands, and did a fair imitation of their favorite German guard. "Do not worry, Colonel. I saw nothing....nothing!" He smiled at them and exited, closing the door behind him.

He made his way to the camp stove to stir the pot of stew that was now coming to a boil, happy to have something to do to cover his shock. Despite what he had lead Hogan and Newkirk to believe, he had no idea they were an item, let alone that either of them were into men. But he was as fast as Newkirk when he needed to be, and could act just as well. He had calculated in an instant that it would be harder for the two men to try and explain it all, and this way they could relax around him. In truth he had no problem with homosexuals, and considered Newkirk and Hogan very dear friends. Their secret was forever safe with him.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this some time ago, but never posted. If I survive my health issues, more will come. We shall see. Otherwise, thank you to everyone for their encouragement and hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
